


Like A Hurricane

by iceshade



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: (attempted), Angry Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Criminal husbands, Do you know how hard it is to write smut in your parents' house?, Doggy Style, Episode Tag, Feelings, Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt Len, Hurt/Comfort, Id Fic, M/M, Makeup Sex, Minor Spoilers, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Topping from the Bottom, emotionally repressed assholes, very
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 20:43:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6581449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iceshade/pseuds/iceshade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mick and Len still have some stuff to work out after their cage match in 1x10. The whole SNAFU in the Old West happens, and their feelings can't be bottled up anymore. Then sex happens.</p>
<p>(aka the most id!fic to ever id... or fic, for that matter)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like A Hurricane

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a direct reference to my new favorite song for this pairing, "Hurricanes" by The Script. This is also the song that, over the course of my writing this, The Script decided to crack down on and remove all non-cover versions of from youtube. However I did [find it on tumblr](http://thesimpledrottning.tumblr.com/post/72883951846/) ftw.  
> As with most of my works, this is unbetaed, so pointing out any mistakes you find as well as concrit is much appreciated.

Of all the things Len might have expected to happen after Mick and Rip dropped the bombshell of The Omega Protocol, getting shoved up against the wall of the Waverider was not one of them. He and Mick had each been walking back to their rooms, (that's right, he said room **s** , plural) when he found himself being slammed against the wall by his former partner. He'd barely opened his mouth to protest, when he felt Mick's chapped lips covering his own; his large hands holding Len in place as if their recent "break-up" had never happened.

At first, he'd kissed Mick back just as passionately, his eyes sliding closed and hands fisting in Mick's shirt. But then his split lip reopened, and the sharp sting brought him back to the unfortunate present.

His eyes snapped open. "What the hell, Mick!?" He demanded, breaking out of the man's grip and shoving **him** back. "You can't just _do_ that after all that's happened!"

"You're right, I'm sorry," Mick said, taking another step back. His entire body language screamed tension, but he also refused to meet Len's gaze.

Len's eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "You're not helping yourself this way, either," he drawled, not taking his eyes off the changed man standing in front of him; "the Mick I knew from before wouldn't have apologized like that. He also wouldn't have backed down from a confrontation, especially not so quickly. So either you're up to something, or something's very wrong."

He didn't miss Mick's almost imperceptible flinch at his words either, but he wasn't sure if it was because of the reminder of their shared past or him hitting the unknown nail on the head. So he stared Mick down and waited. It might have been lifetimes for Mick, but Len still knew the man well _enough_. And it wasn't like he'd been ignoring Mick since their battle royal – quite the opposite, actually – there was enough about him that had remained the same.

He was right, of course, (no surprises there). Barely any time had gone by before Mick finally looked him in the eye, and Len was shocked to see something in Mick's expression that he could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen there before.

Fear.

He sighed and uncrossed his arms, his resolve weakening; "c'mon."

"What?"

"You've clearly got something you need to say but didn't want to say where we can be overheard." He jerked his head in the direction of their rooms; "so come on."

(...and that's how Len ended up with Mick's dick in his ass, finally getting the make-up sex he deserved, but that's skipping ahead a little _too_ much.)

* * *

 

It seemed like Len didn't know this new Mick quite as well as he thought, because he remained as close to Len as physically possible, even after they reached his room. Len had leaned against the wall and waited, arms wrapped around himself like a shield, for Mick to take a seat somewhere else, but he stood next to Len instead.

"Oh, so now my presence is tolerable," Len snapped, not caring if he kept the hurt from his voice or not, "now that _you_ have something to say to me?" Mick didn't react, so Len sighed, pushing off the wall. "Fine. If we're gonna do it this way, I'm going to at least sit down. I'm still a bit sore from our recent adventures, you understand." (This time, Mick did react, but as Len had his back to him, he didn't see it.)

As anticipated, Mick followed Len over to the bed and sat down next to him, their shoulders brushing. Len just watched him, arms still crossed and eyebrow cocked, and waited for Mick to get on with it.

It was a while before he said anything. Actually, it was Len shifting to get off the bed to go take some pain meds that jolted Mick into action. He reached out and put a hand on Len's bicep, grunting, "there's more."

"I'm sure. Thanks for the illuminating exposition, Mick. Now if that's all...?" He let himself trail off as he tried to extract himself from Mick's grip, but the former bounty hunter just held on tighter. "Let. Go."

Mick laughed, but it was hollow-sounding to them both. "Typical Snart. I see you still revert to snark when you feel vulnerable. Guess some things never change."

"How sweet; you remembered," Len drawled; "careful, people will start to think you care."

"Good."

_That_ shocked Len speechless, and his lips, which had been tightly pursed together, fell open. But it was all gone in an instant; the hope that replaced the shock his eyes quickly giving way to the cold mask he showed the world. Mick could see Len close himself off, pushing down his emotions so he wouldn't get hurt again. He believed that Mick no longer wanted him dead, at least not anymore, but they still had plenty of other issues to work out.

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't want you to die... Just **stop** ," he said, cutting off whatever sarcastic response Len was about to make. "Please."

Len squinted his eyes at him, which Mick took to mean "go on."

"Look, Snart—no, Len—shit, this isn't how I wanted to do this." Mick rubbed his free hand across his face and sighed. "We didn't tell the others the whole truth about Omega Protocol. Rip knows, obviously, but it's more than them just going after our past selves.

"The Pilgrim won't just try to kill _us_ , if she needs to she'll go after our families, our parents. She'll do whatever she can to make sure we are all erased from history." Mick saw the moment Len got it, when he stiffened even further and his eyes widened. He tightened his grip in anticipation of Len trying to get away and do something stupid.

"Lisa..." Len whispered, "as much as I'd have liked someone to take Lewis out permanently when I was younger, this might also completely erase Lisa."

"Yeah, I know, but just listen to me." He reached out and grabbed on to Len with his free hand as well. "You can't just run in there blind, not when it comes to the Pilgrim. Until she makes a move, we're not gonna know who she'll target first among us. If she sees present you, she won't hesitate to kill you, too. I know you'd do anythin' for Lisa, but getting yourself killed now is not the answer. And letting past you get erased means there'll be no one to protect her from Lewis."

Mick's words were just enough to make Len calm down enough that he wasn't going to storm Rip's rooms and demand they do something right then and there. That didn't mean that Len could be considered calm, though, and Mick resisted the urge to literally shake some sense into him.

"So tell me how we can make a plan, Mick," Len snapped; "you were willing to kill my sister yourself not too long ago! Why should I trust you now? Why should I ever trust you again!?"

"Because I still love you, you stupid asshole!" Mick roared; "because you're still one of the best things that ever happened to me! Even the Time Masters couldn't make me forget about us, no matter what they did to me! However furious I may be with you, that doesn't mean I ever want you to be erased from history."

Len could not believe what he was hearing; seemed like that was happening to him a lot lately. Mick's brain seemed to have caught up with what he just said (yelled), and he released Len, finally, with a grunt. After a long, long moment of silence, Mick made to get up from the bed and leave, muttering, "forget it."

Len's hand shot out and grabbed Mick by the jacket. "Oh no you don't," he said, hauling him into a kiss much like what had happened between them earlier in the haul. Mick's hands came up to cradle his face, and Len pulled back with a hiss.

Mick dropped his hands as if they were – well, not burned, but something else that would make him react very fast. _He'd_ done that to Len, and he'd enjoyed it. But Len still hadn't let go of him.

"This doesn't mean I've forgiven you, got it?"

"I wouldn't have you any other way," he growled, finally seeing that spark of mischief returning to Len's eyes.

Len released Mick to start undressing himself as he smirked. "Oh you'll 'have me' will you? And who said anything about that?"

God, Mick had missed that teasing drawl. "Fucker," he replied with a grin; his own hands reaching down to open his pants and shoving them down his legs. "You love my cock."

"Mmm, yes I do."

Foreplay didn't last long. This wasn't going to be gentle lovemaking, it was going to be quick and dirty—angry sex. Len did at one point climb onto Mick's lap before either of them had gotten completely naked, and had just ground his ass against Mick's cloth-covered erection. He grabbed Mick's face in his hands, smashing their lips together, teeth clacking while Mick divested them of their remaining clothes.

Len crawled out of Mick's lap on his hand and knees to grab the lube and condoms, when he found their positions reversed. Now it was Mick that was rubbing his dick against _him_. He draped himself over Len's back like a heated blanket; one hand on the bed for balance, the other hand curving around Len's hip. Len shivered as he felt Mick's breath against the nape of his neck, but then Mick had to open his mouth and ruin the mood.

"Are you sure you're up to this, Len? You're still healing."

"If I wasn't, I would have stopped you a while ago, Mick," he gritted out. "All I need is your cock if you don't want to actively participate."

Mick nipped Len's shoulder. "Tease," he murmured, straightening up as he took the stuff Len was shoving at him.

Len turned his head to look at Mick, a slight flush appearing high on his cheeks, (the ones on his face, not his ass,) as he watched Mick pour a generous amount of lube on his fingers and unceremoniously shove one inside him. God, he loved Mick's fingers: so thick and callused and warm as they worked him open. It was almost too bad he needed both hands to support himself, or he'd be jacking himself already.

He briefly loses track of time, a surprising feat that only Mick can accomplish, until he felt the blunt head of Mick's condom-covered cock pressing against his hole. Mick's hand is curled around Len's waist to splay against his pelvis and hold him in place. Apparently Mick is willing to go slow, and it seems like their time apart taught him the values of patience, but right now Len doesn't want slow. If he's being honest with himself, he doesn't want to give Mick time to regret this when he can still pull out _(heh)_. As soon as the head is past the first ring on muscle, Len jerks his hips backwards, seating himself fully on Mick's shaft.

They both let out simultaneous groans of pleasure. Mick's other hand grabs Len's free hip, leaving trails of slick and preventing Len from setting the pace like he wants to. He's panting, too. Mick better fucking move and soon.

"What is it you're always sayin' back in Central to Scarlet, 'you need to slow down'?" Mick says with a chuckle from behind him.

Len is not amused. "And what do _you_ always say, huh? 'Less talking.'"

"As you wish."

(Len nearly shoots his load right there at what he knows is a The Princess Bride reference, because _fucking Mick._ ) Then Mick finally starts moving, and grunts and moans and their heavy breathing the only sounds that fill the air.

Len's orgasm hits him hard. The overwhelming sensations of pain and pleasure and Mick licking up the sweat pooling on his lower back, combining to send him over the edge first. Mick's hands on his hips are the only things keeping him from planting face-first into the mattress. He's hypersensitive, and Mick's still thrusting into him, but he doesn't want this to end because then Mick will leave  ~~him~~ again.

It seems like today is a day for surprises, though. Mick empties into the condom, and Len squeezes his eyes shut. Presses his face into a pillow when Mick pulls out, so he doesn't have to watch his former partner walk away. But because of that, Len doesn't see Mick toss the condom in the trash and come back. He starts when the bed dips, and Mick climbs back in beside him, looping an arm around Len and pulling him off the wet spot and against his chest. The two of them still have a lot of issues to work out – they're not okay, not yet, but they will be. For now they just hold on to one another and drift off to sleep. Together.

* * *

 

_**BONUS CRACK ENDING:** _

Rip Hunter is sitting in his office, trying to cross-reference what he knows about the Pilgrim with what he knows about Omega Protocol. So far, there isn't much overlap. He's debating calling Mr. Rory in to pool their knowledge, but then he remembers that he left the bridge with Mr. Snart in the direction of their personal quarters, and he hopes that they're finally going to start working out their issues without the use of fists. Not particularly high hopes, but still. So he's momentarily relieved when Gideon interrupts his musings.

_"You'll be happy to know, Captain, that Mr. Snart and Mr. Rory have started taking alternative steps toward reconciliation. This will be quite beneficial to the team's interpersonal interactions. I believe they might even start sharing a room again."_

It takes Rip a moment to process exactly what Gideon is saying, and then he lets his head thump against the desk. Repeatedly.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Philosophical question: if a character acts a little OOC for the sake of getting to the smut faster, does it still count?  
> Also check out [my tumblr](http://ecofriendlylovepod.tumblr.com/) for more Coldwave stuff.  
> (and [my primary one](http://fyeahhipsterdoctor.tumblr.com/), because I didn't know what I was doing when I signed up for that site)


End file.
